


Safety From The Storm

by Badwolf36



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Fear, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Thunder and Lightning, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-24 21:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22264981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badwolf36/pseuds/Badwolf36
Summary: “Hey,” Leonard said. “You okay?” Thunder cracked again and Leonard cringed a little when Jim gripped his hand tightly. “Okay, that’s a ‘no.’”“I’m fine,” Jim rasped, voice still not recovered completely from the multiple strangulation attempts. “Really.”“Because people who are fine hide under the bed,” Leonard said wryly.____________In which Jim is not a fan of lightning storms, and Leonard is capable of reading between the lines as they recover from the incident with the Narada down in Georgia.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Comments: 24
Kudos: 212





	Safety From The Storm

“Jim?”

Leonard looked out the window as a terrific bolt of lightning hit the farmland outside his parent’s house, followed by a vicious crack of thunder.

Turning back into the darkness of the house, Leonard again called out, “Jim? Where’d you get to?”

There was no response. Leonard had been in the kitchen making a cup of coffee when the power went out. He’d lost track of Jim and had been making the coffee in preparation for wandering around the house and asking if he both wanted a cup and some of the cherry pie his Mama had left behind.

Eleanora McCoy had gone out shopping a little earlier. She’d patted Leonard on the cheek before she left, saying, “Are you sure you boys will be okay for a few hours?”

“We’ll be good, Mama,” he said, drawing her into a quick hug. He’d been doing that a lot since Starfleet and the Federation had released them from the endless debriefings for a short leave. He’d immediately dragged Jim with him to Georgia, since Winona Kirk was in the Laurentian system with the rest of the fleet and Jim’s brother and his family were on Deneva. “No offense to you in any way, but I think a little time alone would do us both good.”

Jim had been far too quiet since they’d come to Georgia, even when Joanna had come to visit and brought her childish shrieks and endless enthusiasm to the McCoy family home. He’d still been healing from his injuries of course, but it was more than that.

Eleanor had hugged him back before opening the door. “Alright. I’ll pick up ingredients for those sticky buns you like.” Eyeing the darkening sky, she’d said, “Looks like it’s going to storm.”

“You be careful.” She’d lightly punched him in the arm, laughing when he whined, “Mama!”

“Don’t be such a worrywart, dear,” she’d said as she headed for her car. “You sure didn’t get that from me.”

And he hadn’t, but that didn’t stop him from worrying as he found Jim not responding to his multiple calls.

He climbed the stairs by memory, hitting the landing just as another violent crack of thunder seemed to shake the old two-story wood frame.

In the silence that followed, he heard a soft noise in the dark, a whisper of sound. He listened hard before catching it again: a whimper.

“Jim?” He pushed open the door to the guest bedroom and let his eyes adjust to the dim light. Two red duffel bags emblazoned with the Starfleet logo sat side-by-side in the corner of the room. A pair of trainers was sticking out from the edge of the bed and a small pile of laundry had accumulated on the hope chest. The bed was made, although not anywhere close to the hospital corners and sharply creased sheets that the Fleet demanded of their cadets.

At first glance, it was just a normal room with no one in it.

And then there was another loud _boom_ and Leonard heard the whimpering noise again, louder this time because it was definitely coming from somewhere in the guest room.

He looked over what he could see in the dim light again. A lightning bolt from outside illuminated the room for a few moments. Once he blinked the afterimage from his eyes, he noticed something strange.

The trainers that had been sitting by the edge of the bed had disappeared.

There’d definitely been a scuffed-up pair of black and white trainers flopped to the side of the bed when Leonard had made his original sweep of the room, and now they were gone.

Taking a few steps further into the room, he crouched down until he could once again see the shoes. He then followed up the line that he realized came from them: an ankle, a pant leg, a tightly wound blanket.

He dropped fully to his knees on the carpet, wincing as the hard floor came up to bite him through the thin carpet padding. Bracing himself on his forearms, he leaned over to peer under the bed.

The knitted quilt from the end of the bed was wrapped around the missing Jim Kirk, who was clutching it to him so hard his knuckles were white.

“Jim?” he whispered.

Jim flinched hard, eyes still squinched shut. A roll of thunder shook the house and Jim flinched again, even harder than before.

Leonard flattened himself so he was lying on his stomach. He stretched a hand out under the bed until he could brush his fingers against Jim’s knuckles. Jim’s eyes flew open, wide with something Leonard hadn’t seen during the entirety of the _Enterprise_ _’s_ maiden voyage: fear.

“Bones,” Jim whispered. He abruptly looked ashamed; Leonard could see his cheeks pinking in the dim lighting. “Um…hey.”

“Hey,” Leonard said. “You okay?” He worked his fingers under Jim’s bruised knuckles until Jim finally let go of the blanket. Then he threaded their fingers together while bringing his other hand up to pillow his head. Thunder cracked again and Leonard cringed a little when Jim gripped his hand tightly. “Okay, that’s a ‘no.’”

“I’m fine,” Jim rasped, voice still not recovered completely from the multiple strangulation attempts. “Really.”

“Because people who are fine hide under the bed,” Leonard said wryly.

Jim scowled, but didn’t let go of his hand.

“Seemed comfy?” he offered lamely.

Leonard made a show of examining the cramped space under the bed Jim had wedged himself into.

“Yeah,” he said sarcastically. “I can see how you might have gotten that impression.”

A flash of lightning lit up the room like a phosphorous match and Jim hissed like a goddamned cat at it.

“Are you…” Leonard ventured; then paused in hesitation. It sounded absurd in his head, but there was no way not to ask when presented with the evidence in front of him. “Are you afraid of lightning storms?”

Lightning storms were rare enough in San Francisco that Leonard hadn’t noticed anything unusual about Jim’s behavior during them at the Academy. But then again, now that he really, truly, thought about it, he’d never been around Jim during a lightning storm. The kid had always found someplace else to be when the storm clouds started gathering above the Bay, usually slapping Leonard on the back a little harder than normal before scurrying out the door.

“…no,” came the completely unconvincing reply.

The tremulous lie also brought Jim’s breathless declaration of “Lightning storm!” after he’d woken up in Sickbay to Leonard’s mind. With that came the memory of Jim explaining there had been a lightning storm in space before the _Kelvin_ was attacked, the storm heralding the arrival of the _Narada_ and all the devastation the massive ship and its crew had wrought. Chief among the casualties had been Jim’s father, George. That would be enough to make any kid develop a fear that they would carry into their adult life.

And then to have that same storm strike twice, wiping out pretty much everyone they knew? Hell, even Leonard still wasn’t able to fully grasp the scope of the tragedy.

But even that realization wasn’t enough to keep the exasperation from Leonard’s voice as he admonished, “Jim!”

A loud crash of thunder interrupted him and Jim used his remaining hand to draw the blanket more tightly around his head. Leonard immediately felt his temper soften, as it so often did around Jim, even when the kid was driving him insane.

There was hardly room for one grown man underneath the bed, let alone two, but that didn’t stop Leonard from shimmying his way in next to Jim. Jim only opened his eyes when he felt Leonard’s body press in against his own.

“Bones?” he whispered.

Leonard just shook his head as much as he was able in the limited space before squeezing Jim’s hand as the house rattled with another thunderous retort from the sky. Jim pressed in close to him, tucking their joined hands under his chin.

“Sorry,” Jim whispered into the silence between them.

“What for?”

Jim didn’t respond and Leonard didn’t press the matter. Instead, he tried to adjust himself so he could lie more comfortably in the narrow space.

He tried very hard not to think about what his mother would say when she came home and found them both under the bed. And he was sure they would still be there, as he had no illusions that Jim would overcome his (perhaps rational) fear of storms in the time the storm was sure to last. After all, it had taken him nearly two years to get over his fear of space and sometimes the black all around them still closed in on him.

Knowing her though, Eleanor McCoy would simply shake her head and slip a plate with some warm cookies on it under the bed. Fixing things with food was a fine Southern tradition after all, and Eleanor McCoy occasionally indulged in stereotypes like gentility and that famous Southern temper.

Jim cringed as the house shook around them, the windows rattling in their panes. Leonard huffed unhappily before moving in closer to Jim, not an easy task with the slats of the bed frame digging into his body as he did so.

“Give me some of that, you blanket hog,” he said as he tugged some of the quilt out of Jim’s white-knuckled grip. It was even more of a chore to get them both situated, but he managed in the end, ending up with his arm around Jim, shoving the other man firmly into the shelter of his side and trading breaths with him back and forth in the narrow space. “What do you know? It is pretty comfy under here.”

Even in the dark, he could feel Jim roll his eyes. “You’re nuts.”

“I’m a doctor, not a crackpot. And when have you _ever_ known me not to complain when I found my accommodations less than suitable?”

Jim paused for a second as he thought that over.

“You’ve got a point,” he finally admitted.

“Damn right I do.”

“Bones?”

“Yeah?”

“I…thanks. For…” Jim trailed off, but Leonard was plenty capable of filling in the blanks. _Thanks for not laughing at me. Thanks for looking for me. Thanks for being here._

“Course, Jim.” Another great _crash!_ shook the house, and Jim let out a soft, wounded noise.

Leonard tightened his grip on the other man, trying his best to comfort him without saying a word.

“So,” he finally said when Jim had relaxed the tiniest of fractions. "Please tell me Scotty finally told you the story of what the hell he did to Admiral Archer’s beagle.”

Jim chuckled, weakly, but still mirthful. His eyes lit up as he said, “You’re never going to believe it. I don’t even believe it.”

And as the storm raged on, Leonard settled in for the long haul. Whether that was crammed under a bed, stuffed in a flying tin can, or anywhere else, he knew it didn’t matter as long as Jim was beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed. I adore reading them!


End file.
